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Iâm straight man, not scraping
For these papers that you all chasing
And Iâm great man, Iâm straight man
What you all chasing?
All that underground hip hop, all these Gucci flip flops
Squeezing blood out of pennies, nigga every drip drop
Not at the tip top but got a nice view
Of it when the sun hits the window, my god, you love it
Smoke good, drink good, eat a lot of steak, man
I can hit the Chevy lot and leave with paper plates man
I still pay my bills when my shit is late man
I ainât got hella skrill but Iâm living straight man
Watch the Raider game on the sixty inch plasma
That ainât half-bad for an independent rapper? spending grip putting sips to my lip
While my bitch is skinny dipping waterâs bluer than a crip
I take my little cousin shoe-shopping dropping rent money
Eat somewhere yummy, hit Laurieâs and go gummy
It ainât shit but money, I blow it, I get it back
I get it back, I blow it, I live it the way I know it
Feels good to be a free man flying up the coastline
LA, can I get a Westside one time?
And itâs all off of rhyme, I make money off my mind
If you know me then you know that I be dummy on my grind
I am out there getting it, I ainât got no plan B
Iâm an artist or nothing, I will starve, understand me?
Think I took the easy route? Nigga, we should chitchat
If this thing falls flat I ainât got no get-back
So I appreciate every song, every show
Any nigga that support me it means more than you know
So I leave the stage pouring sweat, t-shirt soaking wet
Amped up and out of breath making sure you donât forget
That you can be anywhere but you chose to fuck with me
And Iâmma make it so you donât regret that you stuck with me
I really love all yâall, letâs party till the roof pops
The gutter to the roof top, long live hop hop
- Álbum:
- Finger Snaps and Gun Claps